“You do yourself a disservice, Little One,” says a voice. Bec stiffens, then turns slowly and regards Lord Loss. He’s hovering in the doorway, blood seeping from the many cracks in his pale red skin. His dark red eyes are as kindly as I’ve ever seen them. Even the snakes in the hole where his heart should be look harmless, hissing playfully, seeming to smile at the young girl by the wardrobe.

“Of course you deserve such finery,” Lord Loss continues, floating into the room and running a couple of his eight arms over the dresses. “You are a priestess of high standing. You should expect only the best from your world and its people. They exist to serve your pleasure and revere your beauty.”

“You flatter me,” Bec says shyly.

“No,” Lord Loss says. “Power is beauty, and as you are the most powerful of all humans, you must be the most beautiful. Wear these dresses and think of them as rags. We shall find finer robes for you later.”

He picks out a green dress and smiles. “This matches your eyes. Will you try it on, to please me?”

“Very well.” Bec sighs and slips out of her nightdress, not embarrassed to be naked in front of the demon master. Bec’s nudity made me uncomfortable at first, but I’m used to it now. What I find more unsettling is the fact that she seems to want to please Lord Loss. Why should she care about his wishes, or dress to impress him? This is our enemy, a vile, twisted monster. Yet she’s letting him treat her like a doll.

When Bec has dressed, Lord Loss leads her to the table and applies makeup as she sits patiently. It’s obscene, watching his mangled hands brushing across her face. I want to knock him away and slap Bec back to her senses. It wouldn’t be so bad if he was controlling her thoughts, brainwashing her to do his bidding. But I don’t get any hint of that. Bec looks nervous, but her mind appears to be her own.